Say Something
by LonelyThursday
Summary: "Two weeks ago. That case was two weeks ago. Why hadn't he woken up? He should have woken up by now. Shouldn't he?" A case went wrong and now he's in the hospital in a coma. Why won't he wake up? Johnlock, Mystrade. Started out as a one-shot, now it's not. Rated for some swearing and kinda implied things.
1. Chapter 1: Sherlock

*AN: not Brit picked, un-beta'd. Say Something by A Great Big World. I don not own the Song or the Characters I only own the story line.  
_/this is an inner monologue/  
__((this is a flash back))_  
~**these are song lyrics**

* * *

**Say something**

~**Say something I'm giving up on you.**

/_Two weeks ago. That case was two weeks ago. Why hadn't he woken up? He should have woken up by now. Shouldn't he?/  
_  
It was getting hard to think I was so worried.  
/_Why was I so worried? There was nothing be worried about right?  
The doctors seem worried.  
But doctors can have a lot of patients. One of them...  
No no no you idiot they're worried about him they just don't know how to tell you.  
SHUT UP!  
It's true you know it is. Mycroft's protecting you. He thinks he can shield you.  
I know_./

~**I'll be the one, if you want me to.**

This inner monologue was just making me feels worse. He looks so lifeless on the hospital bed.  
/_Maybe it's just the lighting that makes him look like that.  
Really?  
Yes yes I'm sure once he's out he'll look healthy again_./  
And his monitors all look fine.  
_/He's just on pain meds that's all.  
Why do you keep lying to yourself? You KNOW there's something wrong.  
NO! He'll be fine. He has to be fine./_

I am the only one in his room. Mrs. Hudson said something about sleeping at home. Lestrade was working a case. Mycroft was the British government, this was too mundane for him. Harry had probably drunk herself into a stupor...

Other than the doctors it was just me and I won't leave without him.

~**Anywhere I would've followed you.**

_/what if he dies? What WILL you do then?  
He won't die!  
What if he does? What then?  
He WON'T die!  
Will you follow him?  
What do you mean?  
You've lost him once. But then you always knew you'd return. He won't return thought. If he dies then he's dead. No. Coming. Back.  
He'll be fine! He was a soldier he's been through worse! He won't leave me.  
We'll see./_

I haven't left in days I'm sure I look like a right mess. Mycroft came, he started talking, wasn't paying attention, something about cleaning and being thrown out. I could care less.

_/Maybe I will follow if he dies. After all I can't seem to bring myself to leave here and he's fine./_

~**Say something, I'm giving up on you.**

Two months that case was two months ago and I know it's all my fault.

* * *

~**And I am feeling so small.**

Mycroft finally told me. Not that I hadn't already deduced it. It's so much worse to hear it even though I already knew.

Comatose

_/What am I supposed to do now?  
What if my blogger died? Or worse? What if he stayed like this forever? Lifeless and still, but with a beating heart?  
I see you're succumbing to the truth.  
NO! You're WRONG he'll be ok! He was to be!  
And what if you're wrong?/_  
There's the question that's been bothering me. I'm not sure what I'd do if he died. Though I'm sure at the first sign of trouble Mycroft will put me under house arrest and watch me even more carefully.

_/I don't know what to do please, wake up./_

~**It's was over my head**

I started doing extensive research. What else can I do. He'd be mad if I turned to drugs and I don't want him to be mad. But I NEED to think about something! Anything to try to help. Maybe the research really would help.

The others came sometimes, they tried to talk to me. I never listened. I don't think they think he'll be ok. He will he has to be.

~**I know nothing at all.**

_/Why is this so complicated? Shouldn't he just wake up?  
No no no he's in a coma. No he won't wake up for a while. Might never wake up at all.  
Why? Why won't he wake up? I don't understand!  
Of course YOU don't understand you've always been soooo stupid.  
I'm not stupid!  
Yes you are. You're so stupid you can't see what's right in front of you. He'll die and there's NOTHING you can do about it./_

Mrs. Hudson brought by some fresh flowers. I think she told me to eat more. I don't care.

_/Why doesn't he wake up?/_

* * *

~**And I will stumble and fall.**

Four months. Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, and Mycroft force me to go home. They make me eat, and sleep, and give me cases. Why can't they just leave me ALONE! All I want is be alone, with him. Actually I just want him to wake up. I've decided to humor them. He'd would want me to.

Sometimes I forget, when I'm on cases, I'll just casually ask him to do something. I don't even realize until I see all their faces, these people who made it clear time and again that I'm a freak, the sadness. Even worse they feel bad because I don't even realize I did it. I usually leave after that, case unsolved, can't leave fast enough.

He NEEDS to wake up.

~**I'm still learning to love**

A few weeks ago is when I realized. I don't know why I didn't see it before. I'm more worried than the others, they all treat me like a widower. I just can't understand how I didn't see it before. Although Mycroft told me an expression once: Love is blind.

Love. That's what this is. Everyone could see it. I couldn't. I wish I never had because it only makes it worse.

I'm a highly functional sociopath I don't know HOW to love. But I do. I see it now, I love him so much it hurts. I know now that if he dies I WILL follow him. I'd be lost without my blogger.

~**Just starting to crawl.**

_/Please please please please.  
Oh begging now are we. And here I thought you were some great and powerful sociopath.  
Shut UP.  
Oh my my my. My dear tin man you DO have a heart. How precious.  
You know what I DO care! I LOVE him!  
Oh my. You know what brother dearest always said. "Care is not an advantage".  
I don't care.  
You just said you did.  
I meant about what you said. I care about him.  
Now let's remember what YOU once said. "Will caring help save them?" "Nope." "Then I continue to not make that mistake." Caring won't save him. Maybe it's your fault he hasn't woken up.  
What do you mean?  
Maybe he's hiding from you.  
Why...?  
He know how you feel but he doesn't feel the same way so he hides from you.  
No you're wrong!  
Am I? Are you SURE?/ _

* * *

~**Say something, I'm giving up on you.**

Lestrade is reassuring me that he'll wake up. The doctors say his mind is scared of what it will find when he does wake so it stays buried in his dreams. But he's not afraid, he can't be, he was a soldier, he's no coward. Though somehow I find it hard to convince myself.

_/He's weak. Can't you see you always thought he was so strong but he's NOT. He was broken by war and no matter how much you thought you fixed him he will ALWAYS be a broken soldier. Then you took him on a case, that particular case, and you shattered his already shaky foundation. This time he's broken beyond repair. No second chances, he won't wake up, he'll die. And it'll break your heart. Then you'll see the error of your ways because Mycroft is right caring is NOT an advantage./ _

~**I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you.**

_/All my fault. All my fault. I shouldn't have taken him on that case. I should have known something was wrong and went looking for him. I should have... Should have.../ _

I fell asleep. Maybe I was tired. Maybe Mycroft had me drugged me. All I know is I woke up in a hospital bed myself. A private room away from him. I was strapped securely to the bed. Mycroft came I'm to tell me I fainted of malnutrition and if I did what the doctors said without insulting them, then when I was better he'd let me return. I agreed. I NEED to be with him.  
_/what if something happens and I'm not there? What if he dies and I can't ever see him again. Do you admit he's going to die? NO!/_

~**Anywhere I would've followed you.**

_/I wonder if Mycroft knows?  
Knows what'll happen when he dies. Probably. I wonder what he'll do to me? Let me kill myself? Put me under heavy guard?  
You know you admitted it.  
Admitted what?  
That he's going to DIE! I don't want him to die. I want... No. I NEED him to wake up. He will! He has to! He... He... He won't... will he?/ _

Three weeks after the whole malnutrition thing Mycroft let me back in. He looks worse then he did. Apparently I look better than I did. But he's so pale and small looking.  
_/He shouldn't look so frail. He was once so strong so brave he shouldn't... He can't... He needs to wake up. Please./_

~**Say something, I'm giving up on you.**

One year. He's still not awoken. Or moved. Or shown any signs that he ever will again.

* * *

~**And I will swallow my pride.**

_/You're right.  
I know I am. I always am.  
He's not waking up.  
No he's not. What're you gonna do?  
I'll stay. I'll die when he's gone.  
Why not die now?  
He's not dead yet.  
You're a coward.  
Yes. I am.  
That must bruise your ego.  
Oh shut up! He's not dead yet.  
He will be.  
.../ _

I cry openly. Why does it matter I'll die soon enough. Mrs. Hudson doesn't like to see me cry. She says it'll be ok. It'll be ok. Mycroft and Lestrade don't say that. They know it won't be. They know I know it won't be. They won't give me false hope. So I humor her. Mrs. Hudson will take this very hard. Her boys will die, I almost regret my decision. Almost.

~**You're the one that I love**

I love him.

I say it openly now. I tell them I love him. I tell him I love him. He can't hear me. He can't hear me.

Maybe I would have told him. If that case ended differently. But it didn't, and I'll never know what would've happened if he knew. Maybe it's better if he doesn't know, after all he's made it clear that he's "not gay". But maybe he would have tried. Maybe we could've been happy together.

But I'll never know. I want to know.  
_/please wake up. For me?/_

~**And I'm saying goodbye.**

Sometimes I think I should say goodbye now. Kill myself before he dies.  
_/But what if he wakes and I'm not there?/_  
I'll still wait, once the monitor flat lines I'll leave. Never coming back. For now I watch. I stopped doing cases and Lestrade stopped bringing them. I eat when they badger me to. And when we're alone I tell him everything I never did. Even if he's not awake he needs to know I trust him. More than anyone. I trust him.

* * *

~**Say something, I'm giving up on you.**

A year and a half.

Harry dropped by today. She seemed sober. She told me that after the two year mark, if nothing happened, they'll take him off life support.  
_/No no no no nonononnono!/_

Alarms started going off in my mind palace. He'll die without life support.  
_/Calm down you need to calm down.  
Yes calm down you already knew he'd die.  
Breath breath. Calm calm./_

No life support. That doesn't change things it just tells me WHEN to die.  
_/Everything will be ok.  
Well not ok, but exactly how you thought it'd be.  
Right right. Breath. Ok/ _

~**And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you. **

_((The case. A psychopath was beating people to death. We split up to cover more ground. I didn't worry that he hadn't texted me. There was nothing to worry about. Until I heard the screaming. It's all a blur after that. I think I might have shot the murderer. He was lying on the ground, a pool of his own blood surrounding him.))_  
_/I should have gone looking sooner. He wouldn't have been so hurt. He wouldn't have slipped into a coma. He wouldn't be dying now./_

~**And anywhere I would've followed you. Oh-oh-oh-oh**

Two more months and they disconnect him. Two more months until he dies. I know he won't wake up. It seems like such an anticlimactic way to die. After all he's been through it feels like a joke! He was a soldier, he was shot, he was beaten held captive and tortured, he's going to die after two years in a COMA because they took him of LIFE SUPPORT! The injustice of it all is what hurts so much. He should go down in the battle field, not in a hospital because he won't wake up.

_/You know you've gone through most of the stages._  
_What stages?_  
_Denial, grief, anger. The stages of grief./_

It'll be over soon.

~**Say something, I'm giving up on you.**

Two years ago today John Hamish Watson was admitted into a hospital in critical condition. He has since recovered from all physical injuries. He has not, however, gained consciousness or shown any signs of being close to gain consciousness. Today his friends and family say goodbye, he will be taken off life support and this most certainly will mean death. Now they begin.

First to say goodbye will be Harry. Then Mike, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Mycroft, them me. I wanted to be the last. To be the last person to see him alive, as dead as he may look he IS still alive.

Harry leaves crying, no doubt on her way to get obscenely drunk.

Mike doesn't cry but he does look defeated. He'll be ok he's got a loving wife, two beautiful daughters, and a nice safe life.

Mrs. Hudson has a strange look of peace on her face and tears springing from her eyes. She hugs me and leaves. I almost feel bad for her, no more _Baker Street boys_.

Lestrade doesn't stay in there long. He doesn't cry but he'll probably also be drinking tonight. He doesn't leave when he comes out. He's either waiting for me or for Mycroft, I already deduced their relationship.

Mycroft spends slightly more time in there. Probably thanking John for what's he's done for me. When he comes out he looks as posh and uncaring as usual. Except a little emotion shows in his eyes. He and Lestrade leave. He says goodbye to me when he leaves. He knows, but he won't stop me.

* * *

~**Say something, I'm giving up on you.**

Now it's just me. I step in the room. He's so pale and thin.

"John." My voice cracks. "You're going to die today. You... You need to know." Breath. "I love you. More than anything. And wh-when you die today I'll go kill myself as well, to be with you. You were the best man, and brave, and... I needed you so much." Gasp. Breath. "You made me a better person and you were always caring about me. You showed me that caring, though not an advantage, was important. You were a soldier, and a doctor, and you ought to be made a saint. You put up with me like no one else..." His voice broke. "And please John one miracle. Just one. Please... Wake up... Please."

I turned and made to leave.

~**Say something...**

"Sh-Sher-Sherlock?"

* * *

**AN: in case it wasn't clear John woke up before Sherlock left. happy-ish ending for once!  
If you see a problem please tell me and I'll fix it


	2. Chapter 2: John

*AN:I wasn't gonna right a chapter two but I just couldn't resist so here it is. Thank you **United Whovians** and **Ayno23** for asking me to do this. ;)

the words in parentheses are John's inner monologue. The **bolded **words are from the first chapter  
BTW it's really hard to type when there is a cat sitting on your dominant hand ^.^

* * *

I felt like I was floating in emptiness. I slowly became aware to a muffled sound close to me, it sounded soothing. A few minutes later maybe (my internal clock was all mixed up) the noise stopped, it started up again though this time it had changed (was it deeper?). It took a while but eventually I could make out that it was a voice (the voice might have been changing which meant different people were talking) and could almost make out the words. I had the sense that the voice(s) were talking to me, it/they sounded sad (what's wrong?).

Eventually after the voice was slightly posh sounding it changed to a beautiful deep baritone. I know that voice, I love that voice, there was a point in time that I thought I'd never hear that heavenly voice again.

It sounded sad, the voice, (actually it had sounded sad the whole time) that wasn't right. A voice that beautiful shouldn't sound that sad (what's wrong? please tell me). As the voice spoke a name came out of the fog surrounding his being (_Sherlock_).

(That's it! That's who the voice belonged to! The other voices had been other people, but this! This was _Sherlock_!)

Suddenly the words became clear **"You need to know. I love you.**" (_Love_. He said LOVE! He said he _loves me_.) "**More than anything. And wh-when you die today I'll go kill myself as well, to be with you.**_**"**_ (What? Die? '_When you die_'? I'm going to die? Why am I going to die? No, more importantly, _SHERLOCK IS GOING TO KILL HIMSELF!_ That is not ok. The most beautiful man in the world is not allowed to kill himself because of me. He's not allowed to kill himself period. _Not again._) "**You were the best man, and brave, and... I needed you so much.**" (I needed you too.) "**You made me a better person and you were always caring about me. You showed me that caring, though not an advantage, was important. You were a soldier, and a doctor, and you ought to be made a saint. You put up with me like no one else..." **(His voice broke, along with my heart.)** "And please John one miracle. Just one. Please... Wake up... Please."**

I need to wake up. Clearly something was very wrong here, I was going to die (for whatever reason) and Sherlock would in turn kill himself.

I could hear Sherlock walking away, probably to go die (where's Mycroft when you need him). I need to wake up, to say something, _ANYTHING_.

I could hear him opening the door to leave, my eyes popped open and I tried to yell.

**"Sh-Sher-Sherlock?"** It was more of a question and my voice was dry and cracked from disuse (when was the last time I spoke?) but I got out everything that was needed for Sherlock to dramatically spin around and rush back to my bedside. He seized my hand and kneelled on the floor barely six inches away from me.

"John!?" He was clutching my hand like it was his lifeline (to him it probably was). I smiled at him affectionately.

"Sherlock." My voice cracked and my throat was _so dry_. He must have realized this because he sprinted across the room to a water cooler on the other side and back with a filled cup. He held it to my lips so I could drink, he was still staring at me with such joy that it broke my heart. "Sherlock, what," I had to clear my throat so Sherlock got me more water. "What happened? Why did you say I was going to die?"

Sherlock opened his mouth to answer but was cut off when a doctor and two nurses came in.

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes." said the doctor. One of the nurses turned to look at me and screamed when she saw his eyes open.

After several hours of testing my mental health and memory (**AN:and whatever else doctors do when patients wake up from comas) Sherlock and I were alone again. By this time I had gathered that I had been in a coma for a long period (with an undetermined length) of time and that today I was going to be taken off life-support and therefore die (it's a _really_ good thing I woke up). But I needed to know how long I'd been out.

"Two years," Sherlock started his voice shaky. "There was a case and... things went wrong." He was almost crying now, gripping my hand for dear life. "I didn't think anything was wrong until... I think I killed him... I..." Sherlock rested his head in the crook of my neck to calm himself. He sniffed before continuing. "I thought you were dead. You're not allowed to be dead John, I... I need you."

I smiled fondly. "I need you too." I told him.

He sat up, he seemed angry. "No you don't get it! I _LOVE _you John Hamish Watson!"

I kept smiling. "I know. I love you too, William Scott Sherlock Holmes."

He pulled back and searched my face frantically for a moment, I just smiled back. He must have found what he was looking for because he leaned in and kissed me. It started out frantic and searching, but soon Sherlock found exactly what he needed and he slowed it down. He pulled back after several minutes, leaning his forehead against mine just breathing.

"You know," said Sherlock casually after a minute. "I believe you are free to leave if you want. More privacy back at the flat. Want to go?"

"Oh god yes."

* * *

***AN: I believe that this is a good place to stop. Though I do believe that I shall continue with a few more chapters. What do you think? I suppose that means I need to change the status to "in-progress"  
Comments? Concerns? Grammar/spelling errors? Please let me know.

P.S. I know that it would take along time for John to recover from being in a coma but you all asked me to keep going and this is necessary for where I want the story to go. OK so can you please just roll with it


	3. Chapter 3: Mrs Hudson

*AN: so chapter three is from Mrs. Hudson's POV.

Not as long as the other chapters.  
There will be at least 1 more chapter after this.

* * *

It had been so sad to see John, lying lifeless on that hospital bed. Especially knowing that _that _was the last time I would see him alive. Sherlock seemed upset too, I had a hunch of where _he_ would end up later tonight (my poor boys). Why did this have to go so wrong?

I hope Mycroft looks after his brother (he _is _family after all; family is all we have in the end). I won't have anyone in the end, not with John dead and Sherlock shooting up his way to hell. I suppose it's for the best that I return home alone, get use to the emptiness that will soon become all I have.

To take my mind off things when I got back to 221 I decided to tidy up the boy's flat (a nice clean flat for Sherlock to return to). The flat was tidy enough as it was, Sherlock had spent as much time at the hospital as Mycroft, Lestrade, and I would allow. The fridge was frightfully empty (not even any experiments!) and all the experiments had already been cleaned up or thrown out. All there was for me to do was dust. Everything was so frightfully dusty (almost as if no one lived here).

It was several hours before the door downstairs opened, I had been sitting on the couch of 221B, just remembering. Sherlock must be home then (oh dear I hope he's not high). I could hear him ascending the stairs, his footsteps sounded even and normal. There seemed to be footfalls behind him (he better not have invited a dealer here!). Sherlock opened the door with no hesitation.

"Oh, Sherlock dear. I'm glad to see you're home. I was worried about what would happen after-" (_No! NO! Oh god! OH MY GOD! John, John, It's JOHN!_). I screamed, much like I had when Sherlock returned after the fall.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson." John smiled sadly at me.

"Oh John dear, you woke up!" I was ecstatic to have both my boys back. "Oh you simply _must _have something to eat hospital food is just horrid!" I fussed

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson but I'd really rather sleep right now, it's been a tiring few hours." He replied, politely as ever.

"And besides," added Sherlock. "I do believe the cupboards of 221B are bare."

"Well you rest dear I'll go do some shopping." I loved being able to take care of them again. "But just this once dear. I'm not your housekeeper!"

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson." He said politely, heading to Sherlock's room.

"Don't worry Mrs. Hudson, I'll take care of him." Sherlock told me following after John.

I smiled, my boys deserved each other.

I returned about an hour later to find the flat quiet (Sherlock and John must be sleeping). I put their groceries away and started making them some dinner. I decided to pop into Sherlock's room to see how they were doing.

Sherlock was clinging onto John even in his sleep, John's head was tucked under Sherlock's chin and Sherlock had his face pressed against John's hair.

I smiled, my boys deserve each other.

After dinner Sherlock showed John the cases had e-mailed that nice boy from Scotland Yard sent to try to distract him. Together they set to solving them.

Later when I went to bed I could hear Sherlock composing some beautiful music for John.

I suppose all's well that ends well. And really my boys _deserved _each other.

* * *

**AN: Ok so I don't really love this chapter (I guess I just wasn't feeling it. But I did have to do it) but I'm sure the next one will be better. The question is, Lestrade Mycroft or Harry? Who gets the next POV?  
See any spelling/grammar errors just tell me. Thank you **Ayno23** for telling me about the error you saw in the last chapter.


	4. Chapter 4: Mycroft

*AN: So I wasn't implying that Sherlock and John had sex in the last chapter. I was just saying that they slept together. Just putting that out there.

So this is Mycroft POV. A longer chapter this time YAY!

Sorry for taking so long to update. had to rewrite Julius Caesar into modern-ish for English class, and I had State testing for reading and writing (it's soooooooo **DULL**!), and other things. I'll try to finish the next two chapters quickly.

* * *

Of course I had to thank John. He's done so much for my brother (much like what Gregory has done for me) and I needed to say 'thank you' before he left... _forever_.

"Thank you John Watson for all you have done for my brother. I hardly ever needed to worry about my brother after he met you. After you've left I doubt I'll ever worry about him again." I know. Of course _I _know. Sherlock won't live to see tomorrow, not without his blogger (whom he has recently accepted his feelings for). It would be hard to make it through the night knowing what my dear little brother is doing, but Gregory and I have decided that Sherlock is a grown man and can make his own choices (although my dear Gregory doesn't know what choices those may be). My brother would be an absolute nightmare without Doctor Watson by his side. I'll let Sherlock do it because I love him (all the while Gregory will hold me while I make a rare show of emotions). "He will march to the ends of the earth and worship any deity he doesn't believe in if you wish it. You were good for him John and I will assure you now that the funerals will lovely, a joint funeral with graves right next to each other. Anything for Sherlock, anything for you. Goodbye Doctor John Watson."

I make my leave, wiping all emotion from my features and walk over to Gregory. He takes my hand and gives me a sad smile. As we make our exit I turn back to look at my brother. "Adieu, brother mine." He nods in acknowledgement. _Goodbye forever_. We leave.

A car takes us home (mine not Gregory's). He makes coffee and I take a seat on the couch, he hands me a mug but I'm not there, not really. I'm in my 'mind palace', as Sherlock would call it (a horribly restricted way of thinking of it, in my opinion) going over what would happen now.

I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep until I woke up. My head pillowed on my boyfriend's chest.

"I'm sorry Gregory I hadn't meant to fall asleep on you."

"No it's OK My. After all Sherlock won't be around much longer and I know it must be hard for you. Take all the time you need." I was shocked. How the _hell _did Gregory know about Sherlock? He must have seen my questioning thoughts on my face because he continued. "I'm not stupid. I could tell from the looks you and Sherlock were giving each other back at the hospital." I gave him another look. "OK fine. You talk in your sleep My, especially when you're distressed. Want to talk about it?"

"Maybe later, Love. For now I believe we should go make sure Miss Harriet does not drown herself in liquor." I say. I was tired and this was something I felt obliged to do. Then I could sleep.

"OK Myc." He could see I was distressed; he would have questions later but for now we had to make sure a young lady was OK.

It took mere minutes for "Anthea" to track down the bar that Harriet Watson was currently drowning her spirits in. The car ride down was quiet, both of us too lost in thoughts (of both Sherlock and John) to make much conversation. Eventually my thoughts turned to love, Sherlock loved John but never told him (and look where he is now), I love Gregory...

I love Gregory...

Love...

My thoughts were interrupted when we reached the bar. "Hey, My? We're here, time to wake up."

"I wasn't sleeping Love. Let's go."

The bar was a truly awful shack, the lights were dim and the gaudy music blared. Bodies were pressed tightly together as they "danced" to that rubbish. It smelled like a combination of sick, alcohol, and sex. It was a nightmare to be here. I was tempted to buy the place just to have the honor of demolishing it (of course that would be too much work). We made our way to the bar (the most likely place to find Harriet), Gregory laughed at me for making a point not to touch anyone or anything (honestly every_thing _in here was filthy).

"Come on Myc, a little dirt never killed anyone!" He laughed good-naturedly.

"Actually it has Gregory, dirt carries germs, which infect cuts and abrasions, which (if not treated) can kill you." I informed him. He only laughed.

We found Miss Harriet at the far end of the bar, far away from the others patrons. The many empty glasses around her told a story on how drunk she is. She seemed to be passed out. There was a polite looking woman sitting next to her, trying to rouse her. The other woman didn't look drunk. I did research John, when he and Sherlock first met, and consequently learned a good deal about his sister, including who her ex-wife, Clara, was. The interesting thing about this was that the woman currently trying to get Miss Harriet to awaken _was_ Miss Clara. Looks like Miss Harriet got back together with her ex.

"Excuse me ma'am," I called to Miss Clara. "Am I correct in assuming that you are Miss Clara Parker?" She seemed startled by our appearance and by my knowledge of her name.

"I am Clara." She said hesitantly, and then her face hardened. "Who are you?"

"My name is Mycroft Holmes, this is my boyfriend Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade, we are friends with Doctor John Watson, Harriet's brother." I explained, Gregory showed her his badge.

"I know who John is! And... I know what happened to him. And you say Holmes? Like Sherlock Holmes?" She asked.

I smiled a polite smile. "That would be my little brother. We came to make sure that Miss Harriet made it home safely."

"Well alright, but take us back to my place, it's cleaner."

An hour later and Gregory and I are back at my flat, Miss Harriet was settled at Miss Clara's, "Anthea" had my schedule clear for the next week or so, and I would look for Sherlock tomorrow. With nothing left to do tonight I decided to give into Gregory's idea of sleeping. I lay down on the bed, soon after the bed dipped under some added weight and two strong arms wrapped around my waist pulling my back to his chest.

"It'll be OK My." He kissed my neck and went to sleep. I made up my mind. I love Gregory and did not intend to let him go. My plan formulated and I fell asleep in his arms.

I woke up before Gregory. I checked my phone, one new message from "Anthea". I smiled (good to know). It was still relatively early and Gregory wouldn't awaken for two or three more hours. I got dressed kissed his forehead and made my way out of the flat. I had a plan and now the prospect for the future looked even brighter.

A car took me to the jeweler's to find the perfect ring...

* * *

**AN: I'm thinking of doing Harry next. Then Greg. There may be more chapters after that but I don't know.

Comments? Concerns? Spelling/Grammar errors? please tell me


	5. Chapter 5: Harry

*AN: Harry Chapter.  
Warning for language  
Kinda a weird format but I started writing like that and just didn't stop.

* * *

Fuck

I should feel sad. Miserable even.

But I don't.

I'm not sad or confused or angry or panicking.

I should feel sad.

But I don't.

I _was_ sad to see Johnny in the hospital. Bandaged and dead to the world. But it didn't stop me from enjoying the life I had. Clara and I had met up and started being friends again. (_Maybe things could go back to how they were before_).

They told me John was in a coma.

I cried.

I got drunk.

Clara came and took me home.

The next day I went back to living life.

I guess Johnny and I never really got on. We never really liked each other. All siblings have rivalries. We didn't. We just agreed to disagree, so to speak. Agreed I didn't like him, he didn't like me. We didn't talk to each other much and just agreed like the other didn't exist most of the time. (_Maybe that's why I'm not sad_).

They said he'd be taken off life support.

I felt numb.

I told Sherlock.

I went home.

Clara kept me company.

I knew I wouldn't be the one receiving the sympathies when John left. Sherlock would. That was good. I didn't want their sympathies, not when I clearly wouldn't be as sad as someone else. Sherlock loves John, and I know John loved Sherlock. I have Clara. (_That's all I need_).

Two years to the day.

I'm first.

I thought I was ready.

I'm not.

Goodbye Johnny.

I really owe a lot to Clara. She was there for me for two years. Even after all that happened before. She never wanted to see John. I know why. She was always so squeamish and caring. She didn't need to see Johnny like that. She went to a bar with me. (_Just this once_).

Drink after drink.

Clara's worried.

Two men. Familiar.

Blurry.

Sleep.

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. It was soft and comfortable. I want to keep sleeping. My body has other ideas. I run to the on suite bathroom to hurl. My head hurts but I'm used to it. I go back to the bed. (_Sleep_).

Clara comes in.

It's Clara's flat.

She did by me and pets my hair.

She kisses my forehead.

She starts speaking:

"Harry... Um... if you're feeling well there are some people here who want to talk to you." "I'm feeling fine." I promise her. She takes my hand and pulls me into standing position. (_Who wants to see me?_).

I follow her to the door.

We go to the living room.

There are two men sitting on the couch.

One is very tall and pale.

The other...

"HOLY SHIT!" I yell. Because that other man, the shorter blond man, is my dear brother. "You... you... fuck." I say sinking to my knees in relief. My mind short circuits. My brother, my comatose brother, here, awake, in Clara's living room. (_Oh god, please let it be real_).

"Harry." He says.

He looks happy.

He's holding Sherlock's hand.

I start to cry.

He hugs me.

Clara invite John and Sherlock to have lunch with us. We go to a restaurant that Sherlock suggests. Angelo's. Sherlock knows the owner. We eat for free. John and Sherlock leave after lunch. He hugs me before leaving and says the one thing we _never_ said to each other before. (_I love you_).

I smile as they leave.

Clara holds my hand.

We catch a cab back to her place.

We kiss.

The future looks bright.

* * *

**AN: So I might not be very good at writing grieving siblings. Mycroft was sad but found a reason to be happy. Harry and John never got along so I decided to emphasize that. She was still sad though.

see any errors please tell me. Lestrade next.


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